Faded Memories
by Thordis Valentina
Summary: Follow Leon’s path as he tails a chain of odd events that may relate to the disappearance of Sora and the untimely demise of Narnia itself.


Something bright was bothering him from his deep, comfortable slumber

Leon is the main character. I'm not writing this simply because said man was my all-time favorite FF cameo character. My reasoning for attempting to dock off a few IQs from all of you with this crossover fic is largely due to his complex character; and let me tell you, these characters are very fun to write. Well, so is Sora, but a twenty-six-year-old Squall is yummy, so there's definitely a big difference there. I'll tell you, if Rinoa existed in the KH universe, I'd say she is one lucky girl.

**Faded Memories  
_Thordis Valentina_**

**Rating:** PG-13  
**Genre:** Action/Adventure/Mystery  
**Pairings: **All KH and FF characters shall be spared from Thordis' butchery.  
**Summary:** Following a chain of unfortunate events, Leon finds himself allying with the most unlikely of persons as he is cast into a whirlwind of some very strange events that may relate the enigmatic disappearance of Sora and the untimely demise of Narnia itself.  
**Disclaimer:** Do not own. I want own, but no own. No own, no money, no sue.

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**- 1 -**

**Fill in the Blanks**

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Something bright was bothering Leon. It pulled him from the deep and comforting folds of his slumber into the darker and harsher reality of consciousness. He made to try and shift his oddly numb body and only to realize that it hurt to move.

Painstakingly, as though simply lying there had drained much of his strength, he opened his eyes a crack. One of the first things he noted was that an intangible force was boring into his right eye making it hurt. He shifted his head slightly and discovered that the back of his skull was pressing against something hard. It took his mind a few more minutes to become fully aware of his awkward positioning. Leon found that he was not exactly lying on his back, but that his pose was a ridiculous cross between a huddle and a sprawl.

At first he tried untangling his legs so that he could sit up, but this only proved to be nearly impossible. Every time Leon moved his legs, white-hot pain seared up his midriff and left behind a throbbing residue that zapped much of his strength. The jagged terrain that dug into his back did little to mitigate his uncomfortable positioning. Amid all of this, he had just come to realize that his lower arms had been chafed.

And he was so very tired. There was nothing in this world that Leon wanted to do except to drop his head back and let his conscience slip back into oblivion. Yet, being an adult, and he knew lying around would not solve his problems. As much as Leon hated to admit it, he understood that there were certain obligations he had to fulfill more so than others.

Leon certainly was _not_ going sit around idly simply for the sake of one petty injury—except in this case the lacerations he had sustained from whatever that had passed were really quite serious. Groaning softly, Leon decided it was best to try and straighten his body out first. Very gingerly, he lifted his arm to shield his one eye from the brightness. He blinked several times to dull the electric stars that swarmed his vision.

It took him a little over a few seconds to discover that whatever it was that was bothering him turned out to be a thin trail of silver light that filtered in his entrapment from high above his head and traveled straight into his right pupil.

Breathing in the stagnant air proved to be strenuous and somber Committee Leader could feel that the dull pain had not ceased its tingling around his waist. When he attempted to roll on his side to get into a more comfortable position, invisible white-hot flames shot through his ribs causing him to double over and grind his teeth in pain. Clutching his side, he made fruitless attempts to relax. The light in his eye was beginning to get irksome.

Slowly but painfully, he maneuvered his body to a posture wherein he wiggled his head away from the source of the offending light and very carefully scuttled his legs over the unseen domain so that the light struck his cheek in a sharp pinpoint.

Pitch-blackness swarmed into his pulsing vision at an alarming speed. It was at that moment when Leon realized for the first time since regaining his consciousness that he suspected he was lying in was a fathomless gorge with no recollection on what exactly occurred within the past few hours. Closing his eyes, Leon tried regressing through his past events, but his mind remained infuriatingly blank.

What he did remember was bidding his friends farewell back in Radiant Garden before clambering up into his Gummi Ship to start his journey. But what was the point of his expedition again? Leon thought, his mind scrambling for something until he finally hit something. He remembered that Radiant Garden had received a message from King Mickey regarding the sudden disappearance of Sora, Donald and Goofy.

Everyone had reacted accordingly and it was decided that while Aerith and Yuffie took over the leadership role, while he was to set out to find him. So he had clambered into one of the gummiships and set out on a long fruitless journey through the endless universe. Throughout it all, Leon did recall dropping by in a few worlds, but his memories of the time he spent searching so many different corridors remained eerily blank. His memories were fragmented and he could not even recall which world it was that he had last visited.

Sometime between then and now, something had happened. Whether or not his memories had holes in them because he bumped his head somewhere or if someone had purposefully removed them, he could not fathom.

Lying on the ground with his eyes beginning to adjust to the darkness, Leon summoned all of what was left of his strength and managed to pull his upper body up in a sitting position. He propped his back against something that felt solid and considered searching his pockets for a few spare potions he had on him in the case of an emergency. Yet the numerous wet spots on his skin were enough to say that his stock was empty.

But there was still that tingly effervescent sensation in his stomach signifying the last dregs of mana left in him to cast the simplest cure spell. It was hardly enough to completely close his wounds, but it was better than nothing. If Leon had Lionheart—his gunblade—on him he would not have hesitated to use it. The lightness on his hip, however, bore a wretched omen. Even so, it did not hurt to try to search his vicinity.

Reaching out instinctively, Leon patted the area around him in search only to turn up with nothing. He scowled.

For now, one of the first things he needed to do was to find his weapon and then his next course of action would be to locate his gummiship where he kept an emergency stash ready. Leon hoped it was not destroyed beyond the care of his expertise. If he were on an uncharted realm, this would complicate things. He shook his head slowly but stopped because sudden movement made him dizzy.

Training his mind on more important issues, Leon carefully pushed himself to his feet. It was dark. This was something he had known, but his knowledge of the circumstance did little to alleviate the shock of the invisible sable curtain that hindered his movements. Keeping a prudent arm to try and keep the side of his abdomen steady, Leon stumbled unsteadily on his legs, which had fallen asleep from their awkward position.

Pain blossomed from the gash and he could feel the stickiness the lifeblood that stained his arm. Though it was not enough to pose a threat to his life, it was still pretty inconvenient for the situation and was greatly hindered him. Controlling his maddeningly shaking legs the best he could, Leon took a tentative step and then another and then another.

Although the thought of sitting down for a rest was clawing against his better judgment, Leon firmly kept his mind on his goal. He was an alert man who preferred to get things done as quickly and efficiently as possible. Idling, something of which better suited the likes of Yuffie and Sora, was a pastime he detested. Odd as it was, and as lazy as Sora could become if the boy really wanted to, perseverance was something the brunette Keyblade master had taught him during their first acquaintance.

A light snort wormed its way from Leon's mouth. Remarkable as he was, Sora was an enigma of paradoxes. But now was not the time for thinking paltry thoughts. He had to keep moving.

Leon needed to find out where he was and get on track quick. With Maleficent and her army of Heartless out there, hundreds and thousands of people from so many different worlds were depending on the motley crew that had gone MIA for their salvation; and it was up to him to track them down.

Removing his gloves to further aid his senses, Leon placed one hand on the jagged stone wall to support his weight. Keeping his free arm extended in front of him he let the tips of his fingers glide its way through the field of black in front of him. Using the end of his toes as a marker, he blindly groped his way through the darkness. Brushing his bare fingers against the scratchy wall he carefully made his rounds.

Leon felt around for what felt like centuries. His fingers wiggling through open air like five antennae as they struggled to catch a sense of direction. He had the vague idea that he was merely walking in circles, but could not be entirely sure of his illation. Against the dusty veil Leon just barely made out jagged shapes of darker hues—so there was at least a little bit of light. These, he surmised as natural pillars and walls of sorts. Amid the rough shapes, he could barely make out a smoother, less natural shape.

A twang of relief flooded his heart and Leon hastened his pace.

Moving like a blind man, he dumbly struck his arm out and staggered towards his goal. Upon reaching the shape, he patted its sides. The surface beneath his palm was slightly grainy and hard as opposed to the soft squishy sensation that he was supposed to be feeling.

'_So finding my gummi ship and treating my wounds are out of the question. Option B: find Lionheart, use the last of my mana, then get out of here—Speaking of which, what's the easiest way out?'_

Leon had already come to a grim conclusion that he was currently boxed in and that the only possible way out was to go up. Such a thought was not inviting at all, given that he could barely move without grimacing. Tilting his head up the best he could, he gazed up at the prick of light. It was an onerous task to track down a speck of silver no bigger than a pinhole, and Leon doubted that he'd find it. Much to his surprise, however, it took him no longer than a few minutes to locate it.

Saving up on his low mana was decidedly very important lest he fall under attack, but Leon's current concern was to leave this place and he was going to need all the supplements required to get out.

Before he could go on to healing casting a cure spell, however, he needed his weapon. One of the main laws of magic was that the user needed a medium to balance and extract the energy from his body. For some, more powerful mages, simple objects such as sticks (or, in the case of Yen Sid, even no objects at all) sufficed, while others who excelled more on offense—such as himself—required the use of a bigger instrument such as a weapon.

Sometime between the tides of his thoughts, the toe of Leon's boot kicked something solid. It gave off an unnatural clang as it scraped against the rocks. Frowning visibly, the man bent down on his knees and stiffly lowered his body towards the source of this foreign sound. Leon patted the ground until he could feel the coldness of smooth, polished metal and then a very familiar grip under his naked fingers.

Gripping his found weapon tightly in his right hand, Leon closed his eyes. It was an unnecessary gesture when casting a spell, but he was tired and greatly weakened from unknown events. Willing the very dregs of his mana from his body, the Committee Leader could feel it siphoning from the pit of his stomach into his arms. It transferred into his palms and out his sword, forming a comforting flaxen glow.

Overall, the sensation was simultaneously painful and soothing. Leon could feel the skin around his smaller lacerations slowly sealing themselves shut. Vitality burst through his limbs. Though paradoxical as healing had been, it was a wonderful feeling that lasted no longer than a few seconds before a second pain, much weaker than the first, returned. It was not much of an achievement, but at least the shakiness in his feet had gone.

Carefully, supporting most of his weight with his shoulder against one of the many natural pillars, the man reached into his pocket and withdrew one of his gloves and slipped it onto his bare hand. There was nothing that could be done now except to endure the pain. The somber swordsman was more than grateful for the facilitation of his ascent to what he assumed was the surface and began to climb. All he needed to do was keeping moving up. How hard could that possibly be?

* * *

It turned out to be an arduous climb. Much of Leon's time was spent hitting dead ends. He tried remedying this problem by shinnying around the incredible hulk of stone the barred his way only to find that he had reached the bottom all over again. Sometimes there simply were no more ledges wherein Leon would unwillingly skid back down bringing a shower of dust and loose gravel with him and peppering his oak hair with it. He tried pursing his lips, but some of the dust got into his nose, leaving him in a fit of coughing and hacking.

"Dammit."

Leon slammed the flat of his fist against the wall. By this time, the prick of light had disappeared and he found himself in complete darkness. Dust had gotten into his open wounds and it stung. Strictly speaking, Leon was beginning to tire from the musty atmosphere so much he felt as though he was going to pop.

He knew that shouting was not going to bring about answers; even so, he was very close to popping. Exhaling loudly to control his rising temper, he raised his arms to begin his ascent anew.

The start of his toilsome trip began much like his previous attempts. He found himself bumping his head on myriads of unsuspecting rocks that protruded seemingly from nowhere in particular. An unsatisfied scowl crossed Leon's face as he resisted the urge to gingerly pat his crown. His boots sucked away the feeling in his toes and his gloves gave his fingers the desire to explode. All in all, they made him clumsier and slowed his movements.

But finally after what felt like an eternity, he found himself dragging his body, sweaty dusty, and hot, over the ledge. A light and cool breeze sifted through his clammy hair and brushed against the surface of his grimy skin. When most of his torso and his hip had made it out from the hole, Leon loosened his taut muscles and let his face fall into a luscious bed of green grass. Cautiously, he rolled himself on his back and shimmied the rest of his legs out.

Leon lay in the feathered cushions of the grass and stared up at the sky. He was not exactly certain where he was, but the zephyr that gently tickled tip of his nose and caressed his cheeks held the tangy fragrance of unsoiled nature.

Gazing up at the countless diamonds that lay embedded in a blanket of midnight black, the man sighed again and closed his wary eyes. Leon's climb had taken a lot out of him. Now with zero energy left in his muscles, they felt as if they had been turned to jelly. He was god-awfully tired, but whenever Leon began to drift off to sleep, a twitch from his extremities would jerk him away from slumber's loving embraces.

Though he had finally made it out from what he could rightfully call hell, but it had taken him all day execute his plans.

Upon leaving his natural prison, the Committee Leader reckoned he would find answers as to what to do next. But when he finally did reach the surface, he discovered that he was tired, cranky, weak and injured. His amnesia had not gone away, the gummiship—which was vital for his peregrination—had mysteriously vanished into the thin air, and he was low on supplies. All in all, Leon was in a very sour mood.

If he were lucky, which Leon heavily doubted, his gummiship might crashed somewhere nearby. Under normal conditions, he was a man who preferred surveying of his immediate vicinity and left the panicking role up to others.

But tonight, as it so often happens with people who are overwhelmed by their emotions, Leon had forgotten all about using the most vital tool needed this situation. He wanted desperately to blow anything—non-living, of course—up and was half-tempted to ignore his protesting limbs simply to stand up and blast away a large chunk of earth with Lionheart. His unresponsive body was the only wall that stood between him and the delicious desire to execute his illogical motive.

Left only to lie on his back Leon glowered up at the clusters of sparkling diamonds set against their backdrop of velvety black. As he watched the glimmers in the sky, his gaze fell upon one of the stars that was beginning to flicker. His lips thinned as he watched the world that was so far away sputter and die. A disturbing premonition was beginning to soak into Leon's mind. It was the sensation that he was forgetting something extremely important.

'_If whatever it was that I have forgotten really were as important as my instinct is telling me, then why can't I remember it?'_

This was a puzzling thought for Leon who was a sharp man. There had never been a moment where he failed to forget even the most trivial of memories, which he had so carefully packed in his head. The committee leader closed his eyes and dived deeper into his mind to surface his scattered memories.

'_It is important. That much I know, so I _must_ bring my memories back before it's too late. The question is, when will I be "too late?"'_

* * *

Presently, a motley trio was currently traversing the wide plains of which Leon was currently residing within. A young boy and a girl around twelve years of age flanked the sides of a spindly figure sporting ridiculously long arms and legs.

Although the children were dressed in their regular school attire, there were quirky additions to their garments. Tucked into their belts were odd assortments of a sword, a knife and other trinkets necessitated by long-distant travelers. Their bows strung vertically over their mute-toned cloaks from their right shoulders. Accompanying this was a quiver of arrows partially hidden by the billowing forms of their mantle's heavy folds.

Their guardian was an extraordinary fellow who stood well over seven feet in height. He wore on his head a broad-brimmed hat with tapered point that stood erect. Hooked on his back sat a small knapsack made of coarse material housing notably heavier objects like cooking utensils and tableware. His own choice of weapon was a short-bow and his set of arrow lay hidden from view beneath the monstrosity that was the itinerants' assets.

Nobody breathed a word as they simply watched the landscape sway under the silvery glow of the moon. The tallest of the three passed his walking stick in his other hand and readied himself to move on.

"Come along children. It would be best for us to cross as many a land as we should. I get the untimely feeling that something simply is not going to go right here."

He started down the grassy slope using his long walking staff with the children in a tow.

"How much farther until we reach Harfang, Puddleglum?" She spoke up, tired of the prolonged quietude.

"I wouldn't know, but at the rate we're moving, I'll bet it would take us a good many years to get to it… Careful now, Eustace." The creature named Puddleglum halted abruptly, holding out an arm to keep the boy from moving forward. "We must be very cautious when moving through a prairie full of this many portholes. There is no telling that you may slip into one of them a promptly get yourself killed."

Using the silvery moonlight to survey the breathtaking landscape Eustace swept his eyes over the luscious emerald grass that swayed gently with the breeze. He watched yellow dots of what was most probably fireflies zigzag lazily through the endless maze of grass. From where they stood he indeed made out gaping blackness between the great expanse of green. He could only surmise these to be the very holes Puddleglum had appraised them of.

The prairie was very large, but not so much that it was colossal. Eustace could still catch the deciduous trees that grew along the outskirts of a forest all the way over on the other end. If the party were to move at maximum speed without resting their crossing was roughly a two-day trip. Journeying through this beautiful scrap of land would have proven to be dangerous given that Narnia had been steeped in a new moon. Yet the perfectly shaped oval stood out lustrous against the inky heaven.

Seeing this, the human children could scarcely picture themselves falling to their deaths as their guardian had assumed.

"Oh come off it and quit being such a wet blanket!" The girl cried, suddenly growing annoyed the muddle of pessimism that radiated off the tallest companion.

"I'll say," Eustace agreed but retained a calmer disposition, "With the moon shining beautifully, nothing's going to happen to us now. Let's just get a move on. We could probably set up camp down in the grass and enjoy the breeze."

Before Puddleglum could react further, the boy grabbed him by the arm and began pulling his guardian further down the slope. Though he frowned and really did prefer setting up camp on the slope, Puddleglum made no moves to try and break the Eustace's grasp.

No sooner had they reached the base of the rolling hill, the traveling companions found that they were now partially submerged in grass that grew up to just below the children's shoulders.

Everywhere the girl looked, there was nothing but green, green, and more green. The sponginess in the soil beneath her feet may have been a pleasant sensation, but it was rather disconcerting when the tops of the tall grass seemed completely uniform to the eye from her current position.

"I told you so," The gloomy creature grumbled as he followed the children at a much slower but no more than leisurely a pace. "With the grass this high, we won't be able to spot the holes: we'll simply fall into a pit and break our necks or starve to death."

"Shush!" Up ahead, Eustace's schoolmate had swept away a curtain of grass and pushed her way deeper into the prairie. "We're here already, are we not?" None of her companions breathed a word, for women and even little girls had their odd ways of becoming frightfully terrifying when they were vexed. "So I say we might as well move on while we're at it."

"Well said, Pole." Eustace spoke up after their pause had curdled far too much to his liking, "We did squander a lot of time back there with that pretty woman; it would really be a waste for us to simply turn around and go right on back."

"I wouldn't waddle into the grass without thinking, Jill." Puddleglum warned, but the girl referred to as Jill ignored his admonition. She carelessly parted the long shafts with both her hands and stepped through, letting the curtain swing back to their former position. The other two turned and exchanged glances before Eustace moved forward and pushed the foliage to facilitate his movements.

The spot where they expected to see Jill was empty save for the quiet whispering of the air around them. Somehow, during the time they had spent sweeping through the endless sea of green, the fireflies had fled taking the serene atmosphere with them. Although the world was full of its usual noises, the air seemed far too still for Puddleglum's and even Eustace's liking. Though Puddleglum had been positive that Jill had been in front of him—for he held a better vantage point than the boy—there was no signs of her brown-haired head.

"Pole! I'll say, Pole!" Eustace called, cupping his hands around his mouth and yelling the best he could so that his shouts came out clear. "Come out! Playing hide-and-seek in a place like this isn't very funny!"

There was no response, only the eerie whistling of the wind in the lush greenery. The two of them tried calling out and increased the loudness of their voices for maximum effect. In spite of this, their calls failed to draw any response from the elusive Jill.

"I knew it. She must have fallen to her death somewhere. There's no mistaking it now."

As much as Eustace hated to believe the words of his companion, it seemed to be the most logical deduction of their situation. He felt his mood die and his mind grow cold. By that time, the boy began hastily and irrationally pushing his way through the patches of grass, his eyes darting on every corner. No sooner had Eustace and Puddleglum's panic spiked to its pinnacle, Jill's terrified shriek resounded through the night air.

* * *

During the time he had worked so hard to unearth is memories, the fatigue that fogged his better judgment washed over him pulling Leon into a slumber that felt like it lasted for only seconds.

It was difficult for Leon to draw the line between sleep and reality and he was not sure whether he was hallucinating or not. But when the star-mottled sky sharpened into his view, it became apparent to the disoriented Committee Leader that he was only dreaming. At first, it was difficult for him to accept it, but the dull throbbing sensation on his injury served as a painful mnemonic.

In his dream, Leon found himself back in Radiant Garden engaging in small talk with Aerith, Yuffie, Cid, and Merlin; and for some very strange reason, Sora, Donald, and Goofy were with them. Although it had not been long since the depths of his mind had conjured and projected his pointless fantasy of this, the topic of their conversation was quickly stripping away from his mind until all Leon could remember was the movement of everyone's mouths.

'_What _were_ we talking about?'_

He brought a gloved hand to his face and gently rubbed both his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. Normally, Leon was not a man who believed in the mystical aspects of the human's life, but there was a strong sense of familiarity of this dream hidden within what he had seen during his short slumber. It held so much of an impact on Leon that the image had imprinted itself in his brain and simply would not go away.

'_I remember everyone was relaxed—we were discussing Radiant Garden's progress and… and… and then what? Was that really what we were talking about? I can't recall the look in everyone's eyes.' _

Closing his eyes, the man in question was about to lower his arm when quiet rustling caught his attention. Arm posed near his chest and body rigid, he listened intently to the sound with his militaristic instincts heightened.

Moving discreetly as he could, Leon guided his sword-arm to his hip and encircled his fingers around the firm handle of his gunblade. The stoic man kept his eyes on the dark bundle of grass that had moved and waited. For just the briefest of moment, it was still and Leon wondered if his fatigue simply had made him hear things. Leon's hold over the hilt of his weapon slackened and he was about to relax when something burst through the slender blades.

Ignoring the searing pain, the warrior was leapt to his feet, his weapon now out and pointing straight at the chest of Jill Pole. Neither of the pair spoke as they regarded each other's presence simply by watching the other. Finally, it was Leon who reacted first. Heaving a slightly annoyed sigh he dropped his guard and straightened as much as his injury would allow him to.

"Sorry."

"That's quite alright, sir." Jill responded, her voice having gone up a few octaves. She could not fathom the reasoning behind why she had chosen to call the older man _sir_. At first glance, Leon came off as someone far from respectable. His clothes, which were not very majestic to begin with, were crumpled, torn, and dirty. The wild oak mane that fell down to his shoulders was filthy, as if he had never washed in days, and he vaguely stank of blood, grease, body odor, and something else.

Despite all of this, there was something about the coldness in his steely blue eyes. It was the aura of his condescendence that placed him on a pedestal and put Jill in her place.

Nodding once, Leon started to ease his frame to his former position. The sudden movement he conducted had played far too much of a strain on him. But just as he was about to set his weapon back in its customized scabbard, a prickling sense of dread had come across him. This sensation of cold dread that had wrapped itself around his heart was all too familiar. Lionheart still in hand, Leon froze. It was the terror wrought by Heartless.

Experienced as he was with these loathsome creatures of darkness, Leon still felt mouth go dry and bile rose, unbidden, in the back of his throat. They were here. He could almost smell the stench of the darkness and taste the metallic fear the shadowed creatures brought with them every time they appeared. Suddenly, the silence that hovered around them had become thick so that Leon could have dragged a tear in it with the shank of his sword. Clamping his lips down on each other, he surveyed the tops of the tall vegetation.

Leon moved slowly and carefully as if afraid that sudden movement would suddenly spur the hiding Heartless into motion. How long the Heartless had been here, he did not know. Since the Committee Leader had somehow made it through this world's natural barrier, it was very likely that they could have been here for quite some time.

"You," Having kept his eyes on the sharp lookout, Leon did not see Jill, but assumed she was still there. She who had started to push through the grass to return to her friends, paused. "Don't move."

"I beg your par—?"

Jill never finished her sentence. The hilt of Lionheart compressed tightly against in his glove-encased palms, Leon sprung like a lion and raised his sword high in the air to execute his attack.

The girl fell back on her rump with a scream. Shaking like a leaf against squally winds, Jill made clumsy attempts to untangle her bow from her shoulder. This was a moment she had not been expecting. Yes, Leon's icily patronizing demeanor may have been unsettling, but she had been confident that he bore her no ill will. Now here she lay completely incapacitated and unprepared in defending herself from his sudden strike.

Except her assailant paused just before Jill and leapt past her, brow furrowed with determination and mouth firmly pressed together.

A Neoshadow sprung from the myrtle curtains that swayed almost ominously in the now chilly breeze. Its jet-black body launched itself towards Leon, talons posed and readied to tear his heart from his cardio cavity. Lionheart swung down in a great arc, slashing through the foul monster. There was no pain, no sorrow, and no emotion in its glossy yellow eyes. The Heartless did not fall nor did it close its eyes as it faded with the air in thin, powdery wisps.

No sooner had he expelled the Neoshadow, three more Heartless vaulted from the ground, their bodies quivering with the thrill to take any unsuspecting human's life. Adrenaline pumping through his veins, and forcing his stiff muscles into motion Leon charged. His movements were slow and clumsy and it was onlu his desperation to live that kindled the fire in his heart and strengthened his resolve. Lungs gasping for air and limbs protesting Leon mowed down the onslaught of the compassionless beasts that catapulted their sable frames at him.

Elsewhere, during the time in which Leon was hacking down his opponents, Jill found herself surrounded by nothing but green. She could hear the crisp whistling of tapered metal singing through the air and the tip-tip-tip of the man's heavy boots thudded against the earth. Somewhere in the distance, between the whacking and swishing, she thought she could hear the distant echo of Eustace and Puddleglum calling her name.

Using shaking arms to support her equally trembling body, the schoolgirl pushed herself to her feet. No sooner had she managed to regain her composure, Jill could have swore she saw the shadows move. In spite of all the wild things she had seen on Narnia, this was something rather unexpected. Holding down a shudder, Jill turned to continue her course only to come face-to-face with a Heartless.

Now Jill may have seen glimpses of these brutes, and that in itself was enough to petrify the poor girl. So when she stared into the glossy glowing eyes of a Heartless, it was very easy to say that every muscle in her body curdled from its trepidatious conduct.

Of all the creatures she had met in Narnia—both good and evil—none of them were quite like the Heartless. These monsters were special in that it was the macabre nothingness in their eyes that was most hair-raising. The Heartless were empty and devoid of any ability to fear. They had nothing.

No joy, no sorrow, no compassion, not even malice radiated within their scintillating eyes. Present within the Heartless was the ever-lingering paradox of both no smell and a foul odor that sucked the moisture from Jill's mouth. If there was anything present within those glowing flaxen eyes, then it was instinct and an unquenchable thirst to take something of hers that they lacked. Instinctively, Jill's hand flew to her chest and she stumbled back, mouth open in a silent scream.

Whatever these fiends coveted, Jill did not know and she was not interested in finding out. She wanted to cry out and run, but her body had gone rigid with fear. Jill could neither scramble away nor could she voice her fears. Her cries were stuck at the back of her throat and all she could do was choke and sputter. The creature of night stood, with its back hunched, watching her. Its crooked antennae quivered as though it were trying to read her mind. For the briefest amount of time, it stood very still.

Then, as though someone had placed a hot plate beneath it, the creature pitched forward moving almost lightening quick. Wispy dark claws were posed, outstretched, and wiggling eager to tear her heart out. The terrified shriek that had been held back finally broke through. She tumbled onto her belly and rolled on her back, using her heels to push herself away from the monstrosity that was soon to take her life.

Jill felt as though she had been waiting for eons to feel the sharp talons tear through her flesh and feverishly wished that the brute would hurry up and finish her off. The wait and the suspension that hung deep in the air had thickened greatly and the impending fear that was suspended deep in her heart and mind had only grown. Jill waited and waited until:

"Get up. They're gone for now, but stay close to me just in case." Leon stood over her, his voice slightly raspy from the lack of water. "The Heartless do not leave behind a body because they lack one. Try to—"

"Pole!" Someone shouted. The unevenly cropped grass was thrown aside. Reflexes still on high alert mode, the somber warrior whipped to face Eustace, who had just burst through the unending blanket of myrtle with Puddleglum in a tow.

"Scrubb! Puddleglum!" Jill leapt to her feet, feeling tears of joy stinging in the corners of her eyes. "Oh you're safe!"

Having been more of an observer than a man of action, Leon did not need to learn the minute detail of the girl's relationship with the two new faces. It had been enough that the child and willingly thrown herself into the boy's arms and was now sobbing uncontrollably. Seeing that they appeared harmless in spite of the weapons they carried, Leon let their presence slide from his mind and set it on more pressing matters.

Some time during his mini-battle with the Heartless, Leon had managed to pick up a few potions, which the creatures used to regain their strengths. The tides of his misfortunes had altered, albeit only just slightly. Even though he had managed to restore his health, there were still many questions that needed answering and many problems that had not been solved. For one, Leon had yet to figure out his location, why he was in this place, and discover the mystery behind the cause of his amnesia.

It also did not help that his gummiship was nowhere in sight, either. All in all, Leon was in a very bad situation. Sighing, the man brought his hand close to his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Now that he had been fully healed, what was he to do now?

When Eustace's fussing over Jill's wellbeing had finally calmed, a thick haze of an inevitable question permeated the air. Then finally, as though he had awakened from a long-experienced dream, the boy finally spoke.

"Who're you, and what have you done to Pole?"

Lowering, but not completely removing his gloved fingers from his face, Leon retrained his attention to the mud-caked boy. He had not the slightest inkling on who Pole was, but considering that the boy was standing close to the girl in a very protective manner, he could only surmise that when Eustace had said Pole, he must have been referring to her. Completely drawing his hand away from the centermost part of the long scar running diagonally across his face, Leon turned and faced Eustace.

"Nothing." Was his curt reply.

In all honesty, Leon did not feel obligated to reply to a boy who seemed no older than the age of twelve, but he spoke only to shut the kid up. Though he did tolerate Sora, the Keybearer had been fourteen upon their very first encounter and he was also a very special case. Unlike the sunny Keyblade Master, however, Eustace was—at least in Leon's eyes—nothing more than a normal boy. And while Leon did his best to terminate the conversation to the best of his slightly antagonistic personality, the boy persistently pressed on:

"Pole screamed and you were with her. I think that's enough to prove that you're a rather suspicious figure here."

Leon could have walked away. He could have ignored the fact that he was in the middle of an unknown terrain, and just left to attend to his own business, which was something he normally did. Yet, this situation was completely different because he had not the slightest inkling on what to do next. Ignoring Eustace's question, Leon hefted his Gunblade on his shoulder and scanned the vast field of tall grasses, his mind working furiously to plan his next course of action.

While Eustace may have been still going, to Leon his voice sounded akin to a small but discordantly incoherent buzzing noise. That, in itself, was enough to annoy the man and if it would shut him up, he would have been more than happy to deliver a painful thump to Eustace's crown. Then again, hitting children was the last thing on Leon's to-do list. Conclusively, he kept his mouth shut and gripped the handle of his gunblade.

"—I'll say," Puddleglum was agreeing with a nod of his head. There were a great many things of the unusual Leon had witnessed in his life. Gigantic talking mice and animals were one of them, but a lanky creature with green skin and webbed feet had been something foreign to his eyes. As the creature spoke, Leon took in his green dreadlocks that poked out from beneath his black hat. "…If one were to speak from a logical standpoint, you don't look very friendly and with nothing around to prove your innocence, I—"

"Oh stop it, Scrubb! You too, Puddleglum!" Cried Jill, her initial shock of having met her very first Heartless finally wearing off. "You two are being awfully nasty to a person who's done absolutely nothing wrong!"

"But… what about…" Eustace simply made a gesture toward Leon with his hand because he still had not gotten a name out of him. The man was still facing them, but his eyes rested not on them but on the endless horizon that swept out past them.

"Th-that's because…" Jill stuttered on her words unable to explain the lack of proof with which to present them so that she could convince her friends to understand what she was feeling. By now, frustration had built up inside Jill's mind and she was all but ready to explode. "Oh bother! He saved me from danger and that's all I can say!"

"So he's _saved_ you, has he?" The boy spat a little more forcefully than he had intended. He had honestly not meant to sound nasty, but Eustace could not help but feel hostle towards Leon. At this, Jill's eyes had gone slightly bright with exasperation; and though Puddleglum and this stranger had hardly noticed it, Eustace did. His face turned a brilliant rubescent color from the shame of having made Jill cry. Though there was more he would have liked to say, the boy knew when to draw the line.

Jill took tentative steps towards Leon. She could not understand why she did this, but it seemed to be the best course of action to take when approaching a cold and phlegmatic person.

"Thank you—"

"They're called Heartless."

"I beg your pardon?" Eustace and Puddleglum chorused flatly.

"The creatures that attacked us a while ago are creatures of the darkness called Heartless. If you don't want to fall prey to them, then I would suggest getting out of this plain as fast as you can."

The night was deepening and Leon knew that with each second he wasted in watching a trio of strangers, he would never get closer to achieving his goals. Forgetting his amnesia he still had Sora, Donald, and Goofy to find and it was not before long that the Heartless would reappear too. If they wanted to be safe, now was the best time to get moving.

Already, Leon could feel the apprehension settling in. It prickled down his back, and though he was a full-grown adult with great experience in life itself, Leon could still feel the hair on his back rise. A single bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face and into his soiled once-white v-neck.

"Get moving while you still can."

"Now just hold on a minute," Cried Jill who was completely unaware of the fog of despair that had settled in, "What do you mean by Heartless?"

Leon hauled Lionheart off his shoulder and readied it in his hands trying hard to put the children and Puddleglum out of his mind—at least for now. Already, the stars that glittered like a thousand diamonds seemed dimmer, and the breeze that shifted and tousled his oak hair had gone chilly and damp once more. A sheen of gooseflesh traveled down Leon's exposed arms.

The shadows at his feet seemed to be moving now. If the children wanted to run away, it was too late for they were here.

"I wouldn't readily trust this chap," Eustace failed to notice how lonely and empty his voice sounded as it rang through the eerily silent night, "Not only is there hardly any a thing we know about him, I don't think I like the look in his eyes."

"Well he may _seem_ unpleasant, but that doesn't change the fact that—"

"Shh! Don't you feel something strange?" Inquired Puddleglum who suddenly cut through Jill mid-sentence.

"I don't know, but _he_ sure seems suspicious."

Of course Eustace was talking about Leon, who was now clutching his sword in his hands so tightly, the knuckles beneath the tough leather covering his hands had gone white. Blue eyes swept across the empty fields, searching for the enemy. He knew the Heartless were lurking somewhere using the sea of grass as their cover while they waited for the perfect moment catch the weakest off his or her guard.

In spite of the light quarrel commencing directly behind him, Leon could barely catch snippets of the words the spilled from the lips of the only living creatures that surrounded him. His mind was far too preoccupied from searching for the enemies.

If there were anyone the Heartless would attack, it would be him. Leon knew this because he was not the one swathed in the blanket of ignorance. It was his undying but well-concealed fear towards the creatures that drew them to him. He knew what these creatures were capable of. Leon had witnessed this so many times over and breathed in the terror and smelled the bitterness the creatures of the darkness brought with them. Yet when he tried to calm the thudding of his heart against his ribcage, Leon could not will his unseen terror away.

A thick blanket of hopelessness had dropped from the sky and smothered him. Leon knew that he was not Sora. He was not the chosen wielder of the Keyblade and though the puissant weapon may have attracted more of these foul creatures than anyone else could have, it bestowed its master with the strength to defend himself and return the light to the other worlds. This was beyond Leon's expertise. All he had was Lionheart. Though it did its job in dispelling the Heartless, it in itself was not enough.

Shaking off his doubt, Leon strengthened his hold on his gunblade and made a powerful resolve to survive it all. He was not going to die; he was going to find Sora and resume with his plans to return Radiant Garden to its former glory. Lips thinned from determination Leon watched a blob of shadow bravely slither across the grass, its form changing and adopting to the jagged terrain as it made its way closer to them. There were four more, two of each coming at him from both sides.

"_You are not strong enough… you are not Sora,"_ An icily clarion voice rang through Leon's head. _"You shall not prevail."_

His already tight grasp over the gravely handle of his gunblade further tightened.

"I don't know if I can compare to what Sora and his friends have," Leon spoke aloud, oblivious to the strange looks he received from the others, "But what I do know for sure is that I will _not_ die here."

Planting one foot firmly into the ground, Leon brought Lionheart up and braced himself. Willing raw physical strength into his legs, he leapt off one foot and threw himself straight into the very jowls of danger itself.

* * *

**Addendum:** Yep. A Cliffhanger. I know I'm really bad at writing them, but I hope it's suspenseful enough. Hmm… maybe I ought to have written the last part from someone else's perspective then I could describe Leon's… (cough) erm… actually, forget that I said that. ;;

Anyway, as I was writing/editing this chapter a thought dawned on me. I might start thinking about creating a sister-fanfic that recounts Sora's half of the adventure while Leon toils away in Narnia. Then again, the idea isn't completely solid in my mind, so we'll see what I can do about it.

So, will Leon be traveling more than one world? Well… maybe, but not in the sense of using the gummiship and world hopping like Sora does. I might use the pools introduced in The Magician's Nephew, but that also remains to be seen. It depends on how everything turns out.


End file.
